She took two tablets of Valium, knowing that would calm her without intoxicating her—as long as she stayed away from too much booze. Her biggest fear was to act foolishly at the party. At seven, she left for the five-minute walk to the Nelsons’. As she walked up Oak Street, the houses started to get larger, the front yards expansive, the architecture elaborate. Enormous oak trees loomed along the street, dimly lit by pseudo-Victorian gas lamps, so unlike the blazing phosphorescent streetlights in Chicago. When she reached the Nelsons’, she wasn’t at all surprised to see a massive Victorian house, painted a fresh olive green with black shutters and a deep red door.
The door swung open before she could ring, and Hank Nelson pushed the screen door out to let her enter. “There she is! Now the party can start.” He gave her a hug and she wrapped her arms tentatively around his broad back. “Let me take your coat,” he said as he stepped away. She stood awkwardly in the foyer as he hung it in the closet. She could see some people gathered in the living room to the right of the entry. To her left was a large dining room with a table set for for a crowd. A floral centerpiece spread across the middle of the table, which had multiple wine glasses at each setting. She saw Elizabeth emerge from that direction, a warm smile creasing her face when she saw Clare.
“Welcome, Clare. We’re so glad to have you here, aren’t we, Hank?”
“Before we lose you to the rest of the party,” he said, “we wanted you to know how pleased we are you’ve come to work at our firm. We already can see what quality of lawyer you are. We’re lucky to have you.”
Clare blushed, unused as she was to hearing compliments. “I’m the lucky one,” she said. “Thank you so much for taking me on. I won’t disappoint you.”
Elizabeth took her by the elbow and headed to the living room. “I’m sure you already know some of the people here, but let me introduce you around.” The room was a large square, centered on a hearth big enough to roast a pig. Several people were arrayed in front of it. Her next-door neighbor Sally, who was the county’s recorder of deeds, was one. She’d introduced herself on the day she’d moved into her house. There was the county clerk, the county treasurer, the sheriff and Ben. Elizabeth introduced her to each one, and she promptly forgot each of their names.
“There are a bunch of people in the kitchen, naturally,” Elizabeth said. “I’m going to shoo them out here. What can I bring you to drink?”
“A beer, please.” Clare wanted to grab Elizabeth’s arm and follow her out of the room. She was shy about talking to Ben, but the others were an even greater challenge. Hank let in a woman she’d not seen before who made her way to Ben’s side. She had long dark hair kept back in a ponytail, an athletic build, and a tentative smile. She felt a flicker of attraction and wondered if she was Ben’s girlfriend. He brought her over.
“Clare, it’s nice to see you again,” he said.
“You too. Have you taken down any meth labs since I last saw you?” She smiled, pleased to have mentioned something that he’d told her in their previous conversation, demonstrating how attentive she’d been. But Ben’s face colored, and the woman he was with turned and gave him a funny look. She then turned back to Clare and extended her hand.
“I’m Freya Saucedo,” she said. “I work with Ben.” Jo’s girlfriend. That made things interesting.
Clare realized it probably looked like Ben had been talking out of school with her. “Ben didn’t tell me anything the other night, only that he’s on a drug task force. I don’t want you to think he spilled any secrets.” She realized she was making things worse. “I take it you’re Ben’s partner?”
“That’s right.” Freya looked her in the eye. “I heard about the new lawyer at the Nelsons. I’m glad I got invited.”
“Does your girlfriend work there by chance?”
Freya looked surprised. “Do you mean Jo?”
“Yes, she told me you’d be here.” She had to give Jo credit for having a cool girlfriend.
Freya exuded self-confidence. Clare had always been attracted to assured, powerful women. She was dressed in jeans and boots, with a white cotton button-down shirt and thermal vest. She wore no makeup and Clare guessed her to be about thirty. Her tight ponytail attenuated the strong features of her face and her sparkling brown eyes. She was quite beautiful, with a slightly masculine edge Clare was drawn to. She looked like a woman Clare knew in law school who’d occupied her thoughts throughout her second year. Very distracting. She was beginning to rue that Freya was already in a relationship.
Elizabeth came back and handed Clare a beer. “Freya, Jo’s in the kitchen if you want to see her.”
They all looked at Freya, who turned to Clare and excused herself. Was that a hint of disappointment she’d seen in her face? More people came in the room, and Elizabeth maneuvered the crowd so they all faced Clare. They may as well have been a firing squad. With Ben still at her side, she somehow managed to make small talk and look like she was having a good time. One of the associates at the firm approached. Thomas was not much older than Clare, good-looking in a blond, surfer-boy way. He wore tight black jeans and black boots along with an expensive looking hoodie. It was a modified hipster look. He even smelled faintly of patchouli oil, or he’d smoked a joint on the way to the party. He seemed out of place in Money Creek, but then so did she. Could he be a misfit also? They worked together on the methane gas case and she was comfortable with him.
“I’ll be done with that brief by Tuesday,” Clare said, referring to her most recent assignment from Elizabeth. “I wouldn’t mind if you took a look at it before I turned it in.”
Thomas took a sip of whatever dark liquid filled his glass. Bourbon, Scotch? Rye was making a comeback. Whatever it was, she wanted some too, but didn’t dare. She shuddered at the thought of what losing control could result in. What if she were so drunk she made a pass at Freya? Or worse, Elizabeth. Whatever was most inappropriate was what she’d most likely do.
“I can’t imagine what I’d have to offer a hotshot lawyer like you,” he said with a smile. “And anyway, we shouldn’t talk about work. Elizabeth wouldn’t like it.”
“I never imagined working for a partner who made it her business to have me work less. That is so opposite from where I worked in Chicago.”
“We’re both lucky we landed here,” he said. He was about to say more when Elizabeth reappeared and took Clare’s arm. “Time for dinner, and I want to sit next to you.” She looked at Thomas. “Are you coming, Thomas?”
“Certainly,” he said. He looked amused.
Elizabeth led her into the kitchen, where a buffet was spread out on the giant granite island. The room didn’t have the latest finishes. They were the next to the latest and still impressive. High-end appliances, elaborate vent hood, Italian cabinets. It looked very much like a Chicago luxury kitchen. It was starting to sink in that living in Money Creek didn’t mean everything was Walmart and Menards. Wealth and taste ran the gamut here, same as they did in the city, but in a miniature frame.
A line had formed at the buffet, with Freya and Jo a few people ahead of Clare and Elizabeth. She watched them closely, curious about their relationship. Jo was behind Freya. She leaned forward and whispered something to Freya, who turned her head, her smile fading as she saw Clare. She said something briefly to Jo and turned around again. What was that? Why did she stop smiling when she saw her?
After she joined the others at the dining room table, Clare relaxed some—the food and wine gave her something to focus on and talk about. The smell of rosemary wafted up from the pork tenderloin on her plate. Her wine glass was full of a wonderful shiraz, and she was enjoying every tiny sip. Elizabeth was on one side of her, Ben had somehow maneuvered himself to the other, and Jo and Freya were across the table. Freya was busy talking to the sheriff on her other side while Jo quietly ate her dinner and didn’t look up from her plate.
Clare turned to Elizabeth and saw her looking toward the entrance hall with bright eyes. She followed her gaze and dropped
her fork. Henry stood at the entrance to the dining room, wearing a long black coat and scarlet scarf. He was smiling apologetically as Elizabeth waved him over. It was everything she could do to keep her expression neutral. Henry saw her and did not react.
“Henry, you fox,” Elizabeth said. “I didn’t think you’d make it tonight.”
“I didn’t think so either, but then I became curious about your new associate.”
“Well, here she is. Meet Clare Lehane. This is my son, Henry.”
He winked as he shook her hand and pretended to never have seen her before. Why should she be surprised her drug dealer was the son of her boss? Why not? That’s how small the town was.
“Henry’s in his senior year at the college here.” She smiled up at him. “We’ll have him around only a short while longer.”
“What happens then?” Clare said.
“You’ll have to ask him, but I can’t expect him to stay in Money Creek.”
“I’m sure Miss Lehane isn’t interested in all that, Mother.” He turned to Clare. “I’ll leave you to your dinner. Perhaps we can chat afterward?”
What twenty-year-old kid called anyone “Miss”? Or talked like he’s attending Cambridge instead of Money Creek College. “Of course,” she said. “I look forward to it.”
Henry moved away and Elizabeth turned to talk to her.
“I’m so glad Henry showed up,” she said. “I wanted you to meet him.”
“He seems charming. Are you close?”
“Very. He’s our only child, so we dote on him.” She glanced down the table where Henry was taking a seat.
“He certainly is well-mannered,” Clare said, hopefully without irony.
Elizabeth laughed. “He watches too much British TV. It’s rubbed off on him.” Then she turned to the person on her other side.
“More wine?” She looked up to see Freya leaning across the table with a bottle in her hand. She knew she should put her hand over her glass, but she let Freya pour. She hardly felt the Valium she’d taken, and her level of anxiety had just been kicked up with the appearance of Henry. Freya sat and leaned forward across the table. She wore a bold smile. It seemed she was about to say something when Jo interrupted her.
“Let’s take our plates in and get some coffee,” she said. She ignored Clare, who didn’t miss the expectant way she stood and took Freya’s plate, waiting until she rose to join her. Freya looked once more at her and smiled apologetically. Clare didn’t sense the slightest connection between Jo and Freya. She wondered how much of a relationship they really had.
After the meal, she found herself standing in the large kitchen with a cup of coffee, which she’d surely regret when it was time for sleep. But she wanted a prop in her hand. Henry made a beeline to her after depositing his plate.
“Hello, Clare. Are you surprised to see me?” He looked smug. He knew all along he’d see her at the party but wanted to surprise her, and not in a good way. Her uneasiness about Henry grew deeper.
“This is messed up. I don’t know whether I can do business with you.” Who was she kidding? Uneasy or not, she wasn’t about to cut ties with the only dealer she was likely to find in town. But it was better if Henry didn’t know that.
“It’ll be okay. I’m still willing to sell if you’re interested in buying. No one has to know. I don’t think either of us is going to tell my mother.”
She looked at him, considering the situation. “I suppose that’s true. I have to be careful.”
“Of course. We always have to be careful.”
Clare looked across the room and saw Elizabeth watching them with a smile on her face. She waved at her. “Do you know how long your mother would expect me to stay at the party? My nerves are shot.”
Henry laughed. “I have a joint we can share, if that’ll help calm you.”
“That’s all I need. Elizabeth would smell the weed in a second. Do you have anything else?” She looked at him hopefully. Some kind of downer would be very welcome.
“Only some mushrooms.”
“Mushrooms? I don’t think so.”
Henry raised his hands. “Understood. I think if you go and have one more conversation with my mother, she’d be fine with you leaving. People will start heading home soon anyway. This is an early to bed kind of crowd.” He reached out his hand. “I’ll look forward to seeing you again. I think we’ll be great friends.”
There was something creepy about Henry’s exaggerated politeness, but she quickly thought past that to how she could get out of there. The only time Clare enjoyed a party was when she was drinking and drugging with abandon. No constraints, simply pleasure. Absent that, parties were like this one—something to flee as soon as possible. She was looking for an opening, a worm hole through which she could shoot herself out the door. As she walked toward Elizabeth she was waylaid by Freya, who held up her hands like she was stopping a train. Clare stood where she was.
“Sorry to intercept you. I wanted a chance to talk to you before you left,” Freya said, relaxing her stance.
Clare looked around the room for Jo, her instinct telling her she wouldn’t be happy to see her having a private conversation with her girlfriend. “What would you like to talk about?”
“Your boots, mainly. I’ve been looking for that style and haven’t found them anywhere.” Freya wasn’t looking at Clare’s boots. She was looking straight at her, trying to catch her eye.
“I got mine at a store in my neighborhood in Chicago. Alamo’s. You could call them to see if they have them in stock. Or you could check the Frye website.” It didn’t seem likely that Freya couldn’t figure out how to get the boots she wanted.
“Alamo’s. I’ll do that. What was your neighborhood like? I have to admit I don’t know Chicago well.”
Clare smiled at the thought of it. “It’s great. Like a little village with its own unique shops. Diverse and liberal, which I liked a lot. You know your neighbors, see them at the coffee shops. Most of my friends live there.”
“It must have been hard to leave,” Freya said. “I mean, it doesn’t sound like you were unhappy living there.”
“Well, neighborhood isn’t everything. There were many things that were easy to leave.” She hoped she wouldn’t have to enumerate them. Being fired and leaving Chicago on a whim weren’t the things she wanted to share with Freya. “You live in a small town, so you probably know the things about a big city that aren’t so attractive.”
“Bloomington’s no Chicago, but it’s a lot bigger than here. It’s a university town.”
Clare wondered what Freya was leaving behind in Bloomington. Apparently, she was settled enough in Money Creek to get a local girlfriend. Jo was still not in sight.
“I was wondering if you’d like to have lunch or grab a drink sometime,” Freya said.
She became still. What the hell? “What about Jo?”
Freya laughed. “What about her? I’m not asking you on a date.” Clare’s face colored. She found she couldn’t say anything. It all seemed like a minefield. “Look, it’s good to have someone new in town who’s my age and has a brain in her head. I thought we could be friends.”
“Of course. I didn’t mean to presume anything,” Clare said, looking down at her coveted Frye boots. “I work with Jo and didn’t want her to think the wrong thing.”
“Let me worry about Jo. Why don’t I call you sometime and we’ll see what happens?”
Clare saw Jo enter the room with two coats in her arms. “Sure. If you’d like. You’ll have to excuse me, but I need to get home.” Jo approached them just as Clare turned and sped out of the living room, intent on finding her coat and getting home to her safe house. And a stiff drink. In addition to everything else, she now had Freya to think about, and that didn’t seem like a bad thing. She couldn’t help but sense it was more than friendship she was interested in.
* * *
Henry got into his car to return to his apartment. Of the many dinners and parties he’d attended at his paren
ts’ home, this had been the most interesting. From the moment Evan brought Clare into his home, Henry was drawn to her. She reminded him of some of his customers at Princeton—pulled together, smart, sure of themselves. Unlike his customers at Money Creek College, who were, in a word, unsophisticated. He was forced to deal with the Money Creek students after being tossed out of Princeton following a drug charge. His parents wanted him close to home after that, and so Henry returned to bide his time. It was a bitter fall from the Ivy League to a no-name college. His growing drug business in Money Creek kept him from going stir-crazy.
When he got home he saw Evan sprawled on the secondhand leather sofa that dominated the living room space. The smell of marijuana was redolent. Evan leaned toward the coffee table and squashed out the tiny roach in his hand. “Hey, man. How was the party?”
Henry shrugged off his long coat and hung it on a coatrack near the front door. “Good. Clare was there.”
“Oh, wow. What was she like?” Evan was sitting up now, his unfocused eyes on Henry.
“Like?”
“You know. Was she friendly? Flirty?”
“She was definitely not flirty. I think she’s in shock to learn her drug dealer is her boss’s son. It’s a lot to take in.” Henry walked toward the kitchen and Evan followed. He grabbed a bottle of red wine from a case shoved into a corner of the room and poured some into a fine stemmed glass without offering any to Evan. They took a seat at the kitchen table. Textbooks and drug paraphernalia littered the center, and Henry started straightening up.
“Get this drug shit out of here. Haven’t I said I don’t want this out when we’re not using it?”
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